


Loving You is Easy(I’d Do It Through the Storm)

by doctorsimmonswilson



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, I love two(2) married best friends, Kid Fic, Married Fluff, Romance, Sci-Ops Era (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.), angst if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:55:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24711958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorsimmonswilson/pseuds/doctorsimmonswilson
Summary: Jemma Simmons has been a million different things to Leo Fitz throughout their relationship. His colleague, his lab partner, his best friend, his girlfriend, his fiancée, his wife; and now, she’s the mother of his children.orA look into Fitz and Simmons’ relationship throughout the years.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 10
Kudos: 49





	1. Meeting You Is New(Like Life Beginning Again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz and Simmons meet the Academy. Then, they’re paired together in Chem Lab.

Fitz ducks to avoid his mother ruffling his hair. 

“Oh Leo, ya know I worry. I’m your mum, it’s my job,” his mum laughs jovially, in the way Fitz feels only she can. 

“Yeah, I know. I think this where you’re supposed to catch a plane, Mum,” Fitz gestures to the glass doors in front of them, a large S.H.I.E.L.D. logo spread across them. Mrs. Fitz pulls her son into a tight hug, pecking his cheek. Fitz squeezes her back for a moment, before wrangling himself free. 

“Alright, Mum.” Mrs. Fitz tries to fuss over his hair again; Fitz ducks again. “Really, I’ll be fine. I’ll run the phone bill up higher than you can imagine,” he grins. She rolls her eyes, but squeezes him lovingly one last time.

“I love you, Leopold.” 

Fitz cringes, “Love you too, Mum.” He watches his mum walk off towards the bus stop in front of the campus. He turns toward the doors, hauling one open, and slipping inside the building. 

He pulls a crinkled map out of his back pocket, searching for lecture hall C. He meanders for a bit, nearly getting lost twice before finally stumbling upon the classroom where he’s meant to attend a mandatory freshman lecture. His first actually, at the Academy.

Fitz for a moment, feels completely out of place. It’s not an unusual or strange feeling for a sixteen-year-old with a PhD, yet it overwhelms him as he enters the room, realizing just how much older his classmates are. 

He’d been informed that most freshman at the Academy will be at least 20, four years his senior already, but he feels surrounded by adults chalk full of life experience and social skills that far outweigh his own; he observes them mingling, and stalks up to a mid-level on the riser, taking a seat at an empty desk. 

Once the professor finally arrives, and the class settles down, Fitz feels better. He’s finally in a place full of people to rival his intelligence and his curiosity. They’re all here to learn, and create just like him; and who needs friends anyway? He’s done fine so far, he thinks almost smugly.

The professor scans the room quickly, before jotting down the full S.H.I.E.L.D. acronym across the white board. 

“Welcome to the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Divison, Academy of Science and Technology,” the man draws out his words, tapping against the corresponding one on the board as he speaks. 

“I am Professor Russell, assistant head of SciTech. I’m the guy you come to with your troubles before you go to Weaver,” Fitz momentarily wonders who Weaver is, and looks around to see his classmates sharing the same confusion, “if you have any issues. Trust me, you don’t want your issues to get past me.

But more on that later. First, you should all meet the Agent herself.” The door on the left side of the large classroom opens with an echoing creak, and from the hall comes a tall black woman. She walks with confidence, a stern look written across her face. She then smiles subtly.

“Welcome, cadets. You’re all here because you’re special. You’re in the SciTech division not because you have a PhD, but because you have a creative intelligence that one day may save humanity on its brink of extinction. Or your research may save an Agent in the field who would have otherwise been killed in action. 

When I took the position of head of SciTech, my own S.O.- that’s superior officer- thought I was slumming it. Wasting my potential at S.H.I.E.L.D. But I knew something to be true, and looking at all of you, I know to be true today. Your mind is the most powerful tool to have in your arsenal; it’s impenetrable. Whether you sit in a lab all your life or you choose to go into the field someday- you will always have your mind. 

So, cadets. I hope you’ve come hear eager to learn, and to create. You’re our future. Now enough of that, because I would like to introduce myself. I’m Agent Weaver. And I would think all of you would like to meet your colleagues, so please do that. But before I leave you to it, my last piece of information is a rather exciting announcement. 

This year, we are proud to have admitted our two youngest Academy freshman to date. Two sixteen year olds; Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons. Congratulations, cadets...” The Agent continues with sole instructions on finding your class schedule and then Professor Russell goes on about something else, but Fitz is lost in thought.

Another sixteen-year-old? Someone his age, at the Academy. He hadn’t seen her at first, but when the rest of his classmates get up to introduce themselves, he finds himself absentmindedly shaking their hands, and searching for Jemma Simmons. 

He has no such luck, and nearly sulks off in defeat, before he spots Agent Weaver. He supposes she can point him in the right direction. At the current moment, she’s talking to a brunette woman, slightly shorter than Fitz. 

“Oh, Cadet Fitz! I need to speak to you too,” Agent Weaver waves him over. Fitz hikes his backpack onto his shoulders, and saunters over to the head of SciTech. 

“This is Leo Fitz. And Fitz, this, is Jemma Simmons,” Fitz turns to his left, and the first thing he notices is that Jemma Simmons looks just as young as he does. He doesn’t know why he expected her to be more mature looking than him, but she isn’t. She looks as green and inexperienced as he supposes he does. 

“Hi,” the brunette smiles softly. Fitz nods back, smiling awkwardly. 

“...wanted to clear that up. Good luck to you both,” Agent Weaver waves herself off, as she exits the building through the same doors Fitz entered. 

Jemma Simmons studies him for a moment, “Well, I hope we’ll be seeing more of each other. Although I don’t know what you study, so I’m not sure-“ 

“Engineering,” Fitz interrupts. 

“Oh, you’re Scottish. That’s nice. I’ve been to Scotland only once, but it seems nice. I’m Jemma Simmons- oh you knew that though- biochemistry,” she sticks her hand out. 

Fitz awkwardly shakes it, “Leo Fitz, engineering.” He knows everything he says falls flat, but the girl is nearly bouncing off the walls, and Fitz prefers a subdued social experience. 

“Do you-?” Jemma begins, but Fitz’s phone rings. 

“Sorry, I should answer that,” he shrugs, pushing open the doors and realizing it’s only a spam call. He looks back at Jemma Simmons, who looks hurt for only a moment, before brushing past him and walking off. Fitz finds her a bit much.

***

Fitz’s first term at the Academy goes surprisingly smooth. He takes a S.H.I.E.L.D. history course, swimming, and “Safe Development of Projects” because they’re mandatory, and he takes various Engineering based classes to fill out his days. When rankings are posted in the main entrance hall based on marks, his name falls second only to Jemma Simmons. 

His mum fusses over him loads at the holidays, and for once he’s glad- otherwise he would’ve forgotten his winter coat at home. 

But getting back to the Academy is exciting. He enjoys it immensely, and has even made a few friends. His lab partner in Mechanics, his dorm neighbors, and he often converses with Professor Russell(he found out two weeks into first term that this was mandatory considering his age and proximity from home, and that the Professor was not just being friendly). 

Fitz’s mind wanders off, as he wanders into the Chemistry hall, dreading this class. He doesn’t hate chemistry perse, but he’d rather not have it ben a mandatory class. He has enough of those, and he’s think they’ve tortured him enough with the swimming. He’s from bloody Scotland, for goodness sakes. 

Fitz drops his rucksack with a loud noise, and takes a seat at a lab table. Hopefully he’ll have a competent partner here, unlike in his physics lab, where he’s working with some dud named Brighton. 

The class files in, and eventually the professor joins too. He’s a nearly bald man, the hair he has left gray, and wears black, thin rimmed glasses. Fitz nearly laughs out loud at how stereotypically scientist the man appears.

“Welcome to,” the professor scratches something onto the whiteboard, “Chem 101, or freshman Chem Lab. I am,” he speaks unexcitedly, “Professor Vaughn, and I will be your instructor for the next two terms. Today, will be all about lab safety, and being assigned your lab partners.

Now, lab partners,” he studies the room, and Fitz shifts uncomfortably, “are decided by me. And I also have decided, that my decisions are definite. So, I suggest you learn to like your lab partners, or you’ll be crying to someone else. Go it?”

The class blinks attentively, and Fitz sighs. He figures he’ll get stuck with Brighton 2.0. 

“Okay,” the professor picks up a notepad, “Cadet Jones with Cadet Wheaton. Cadet Gonzalez with Cadet Yang. Cadet Hersch with Cadet Washington. Cadet Fitz,” Fitz perks up, “with Cadet Simmons. Cadet Ingleas with Cadet Peterson...”

Fitz stops listening and looks around for Simmons. People start moving to their lab partner’s desks, and Fitz can’t find her.

“Hello, Leo Fitz,” Fitz whips his head around to face Jemma Simmons. He licks his lips nervously. 

“Hi, Simmons,” he says, as she takes the seat next to him, placing her featherlight book bag on the bench.

“How do you carry around so little?” Fitz asks curiously. 

Simmons shrugs, “I hand scolisois as a child. I can’t have too much weight on my back. I’m surprised you haven’t developed it yourself carrying around that’s bang of bricks.”

“Bad habit, I guess.” 

“Yes,” she blinks, “So, how are you with chemistry?” 

“M’alright. No genius about it.”

“Well, you better brush up. Because I plan on keeping my top ranking for the entirety of the year. And I’ve noticed you’re second, so I would think it means something to you too, doing well.”

Fitz shrugs awkwardly, “Um...yeah.”

Simmons smiles, “Wonderful. I was thinking we could do our first project on the laws of dielectric polarization, it’s particularly fascinating to me, because of the complexity of the devices needed to perform it.” 

Fitz finds himself surprisingly understanding what she’s saying, “Yeah, I like that thought. The specifications to complete the buffers are fascinating.” Simmons grins, and Fitz grins back. Definitely not Brighton. 

*** 

Fitz and Simmons’ partnership goes better than Fitz would’ve expected. They find themselves easily able to converse and understand each other. He slowly finds himself at ease in her presence. He imagines she’s also a friend, but he can’t be sure; the girl is hard to read. 

“So what ideas am I here for anyways? Because I’m no sounding boar-“ 

“That’s no’ what I meant, Simmons, and you know it,” Fitz glares. He reaches into his backpack, as Simmons drops onto his bed. 

“I had an idea about our project. So I was thinking about what you said the other day about the way we perceive the magnetic field to be smaller than-“ 

“Oh yes! And the correct force can-“ 

“Overload the sensors, yeah-“ 

“Oh Fitz that’s brilliant!” 

Fitz deadpans, “I haven’t even told you my idea.” 

Simmons laughs, “I know what you’re going to say. I understand you better than you think I do. You know the two of us together are smarter than anyone else here.”

“Yeah, we’re kinda brilliant together, aren’t we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my first FS multichapter!
> 
> for more fitzsimmons, follow my tumblr:
> 
> @angry-slytherin


	2. Knowing You Is Addicting(I Just Always Want More)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into Jemma and Fitz’s friendship in their Academy years and at Sci-Ops.

“Well, she didn’t say exactly,” Fitz shrugs sheepishly. Simmons gasps, nearly stopping in her tracks.

“Fitz!” She smacks his shoulder lightly, “Urgh, you’re so bad at this.” 

“What?” He tenses up, pulling his backpack up on his shoulders. 

Simmons rolls her eyes, “Fitz. You’re supposed to ask if she wants to go on a second date!”

“What? Why does it always have to be my faul’?” Fitz exclaims defensively. “That’s sexist, Simmons, it doesn’ always have to be the guy who-“

“Oh Fitz I know! But you still should’ve asked her then. Now she’ll think you’re not interested,” Simmons says distractedly, as she reads through her history notes. “What did you say was your trick for remembering the order of base establishments? First was...” She trails off into a list that Fitz barely follows. 

He smiles at her as she babbles on. He admires how hard Simmons works when she could slack off and still probably have top marks and graduate top of the class.

“Simmons, I think you’ve got it down pat. Can we focus on me now again?” Fitz quips, grinning. Simmons giggles, and leans against Fitz. He notices for the first time the way her nose scrunches when she laughs. 

“Hey, you’ve grown,” Simmons remarks, tilting her head. 

“Yeah?” Fitz scrunches his eyebrows.

“Yeah, you’re a bit taller than me now. I mean you’ve always been taller than me, but it’s more noticeable now. Plus, I’m wearing flats instead of heeled or platform shoes which clearly shows how pronounced your height is!” Simmons smiles.

Fitz grins, “Don’t worry, you’ll grow someday.” Simmons huffs, and crosses her arms.

“You know I won’t, Leo,” Ouch, first name. 

“I know I just love teasing yeh,” Fitz’s accent becomes thicker as he becomes more sheepish, “But Simmons, you have two PhD’s, you don’t need to be tall.”

Simmons looks at Fitz in confusion at his uncharacteristic statement of compliment. 

“Thanks, Fitz,” she smiles, “also, have you remembered the trick yet?” she blinks.

“It’s nothin’,” Fitz shrugs, “and christ, you’re going to do well on the exam. It’s a baseline. You’ll probably set the bar and make the rest of us look like fools. You need to relax.”

Simmons huffs at Fitz in defiance, but relents and closes the notebook. 

“Fine then, where to if not the library?”

“Well, I’m famished. My vote is for lunch,” Fitz turns his head toward his best friend.

Simmons ponders for a moment, “The canteen with the salad bar?” Fitz nods, and the pair heads off in the direction they came from. 

***

Fitz swears, shaking off his burnt hand.

“Oh would you be careful? I’m not stitching up your fingers again, and the Retrievers’ main frame is very fragile,” Simmons tuts, looking up from a cell sample under the microscope.

“I know that, I designed the bloody thing! And you’ve never stitched up my fingers, it was my palm and I should’ve let the hospital do it,” Fitz retorts, “so go back to your cells, please, Mum.”

“Oh honestly. Don’t call me mum, it’s patronzing. And you did not do it alone! I helped with the spec-“

“You could not have figured out...”  
“Oh well I could say the same about...”  
“...completely useless without the...”  
“...because you think the spec...”  
“...imaging data splay, but you...”  
“...remotely, which was not possible without...”  
“...to use the bloody wrong wiring!” 

Simmons sighs, “I should get back to my cells anyways. Whuch by the way, are reacting just as I suspected to this level of dendrotoxin, thank you very much!”

Fitz pinches the bridge of his nose, “Yeah, Simmons. I never doubted you. I just-“

Simmons looks up at Fitz gratefully, “I know, Fitz.” The partners share a smile before returning to their respective work.

After work, they retire to Fitz’s flat- which really becomes both of theirs every time Jemma’s rather promiscuous flatmate brings home a date or two- for week old pizza and a glass of wine from a bottle neither is sure how they came into possession of. Jemma settles on a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor, and Fitz sprawls across the small couch. 

“This is the university life we never experienced. I mean minus the schooling part of course. Except we really should have cheap American beer instead, and have note cards surrounding us.”

Fitz snorts, “I don’t think we missed out on anything considering we’re twenty-one and eating week old pizza on the floor. Well you are. I’m living a luxurious life on a broken, resold couch.”

“Hey, don’t insult the couch!” Jemma grins, “It’s the best our money could buy. Plus, it’s my bed at least once a week. It’s very comfy.”

“It is not! You always complain of a crick in your neck. And you tell me that I complain too much, but you’re just as bad!” 

“That’s...something I’m not yet willing to admit to. But I stand by my earlier comment. Leave my couch alone thank you.”

“Our couch,” Fitz reminds her, taking another slice of pizza from the plate. Simmons rolls her eyes, grabbing another slice for herself.

“You think this wine was Robby DeAngelo’s? You know the one who threw the going away party for Sarah last month? We got piss drunk, maybe we knicked it and then passed out and forgot about it,” Fitz stares at the bottle, before pouring himself and Simmons a cup.

“Mhm, maybe. Oh gosh, that night was awful. Mostly because the next morning my ears rang for three hours. We drank way too much. I don’t even know why,” Simmons accepts her cup from Fitz and takes a sip.

“You broke up with Jack. Or he broke up with you. Was that his name? Either way we both got pissed over it. You asked me to drink with you and you did not stop.”

“That was dumb,” Simmons states, “And he dumped me.” She looks sober for a moment, before taking a bite of her pizza.

“For someone so small, and with so much self control, you sure can hold your liquor,” Fitz states off.

“Was that an American idiom? It sounded awful coming out of your mouth. And I’m a grown woman, thanks.”

“Hand the bottle, woman,” Fitz winks, and Jemma thrusts the wine bottle at him annoyedly.

“You’re such a man,” she teases.

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“You’re right.”

“Love you too, Simmons,” Fitz washes back his words with a bite of week old pizza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chappie!! 
> 
> tumblr: @angry-slytherin


	3. Falling In Love With You(It’s A Beautiful Thing)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz and Simmons as romantic partners, and then fiancés.

Fitz slips into their newly shared bedroom on the base quietly. 

“Jemma, are you still awake?” He whispers into the darkness. Jemma mumbles something incoherent, so Fitz simply slips off his shoes without turning on the light. He hears a rustling, then the patter of his girlfriend’s feet. 

“Hi,” she whispers softly, flicking on the light, then kissing Fitz gently. Fitz smiles into the kiss. 

“I thought you were falling asleep,” he teases, wrapping his arms around Jemma's lower back, as she places her hands on his shoulders. 

“Mhm,” she agrees tiredly, “I was. But I’ll sleep better with you next to me.” 

“You say my body makes you too warm most nights,” Fitz scoffs.

Jemma grins, “No I don’t. I have no idea what you are talking about.” Fitz hates it that it’s so attractive when she’s cheeky. 

“I’m spent. Carry me to bed?” Fitz’s words dwindle as his brain fogs. It’s been a long day. 

“You’re too heavy for that. We can lean on each other,” Jemma runs a hand through the short curls on the back of Fitz’s head. Fitz hums once agreement. The couple drags one another to Jemma’s side of the bed, her falling onto Fitz. 

He lets out a quiet “oof,” before climbing over her body, and rolling onto his side of the bed. 

“We forgot to turn off the bloody lights,” Fitz groans, facing Jemma. She doesn’t even open her eyes, as she places a finger on his lips. 

She shushes him, then says, “We don’t pay the electric bill here.” Fitz is too tired to laugh, so he just throws an arm over Jemma’s hip. 

“Night,” he mumbles. 

“G’night, Fitz,” Jemma whispers back. 

***

Fitz smiles at his fiancée. God he can’t believe it. He’s actually marrying Jemma Simmons. 

“Do you ever think about how we’ve known each other half our lives? I mean really our entire adult lives and even before that. And now we’ran getting married,” Fitz marvels. Jemma gives him a closed-lipped smile, tilting her head. 

“It has been a rather long time since we met, hasn’t it?” she muses, turning to take a good look at her fiancé. 

“And to think, we’re still in a lab together,” Fitz laughs, bumping her hip with his own. 

“Well that was the given part, wasn’t it? I mean we always knew we wanted to work together. And we’d always been good friends, the best of friends; we just didn’t know we’d become so much more.” 

Fitz looks at Jemma with wonder, “I s’ppose not. We’re still best friends and lab partners though. Just now we’re engaged to be married.” Jemma places her hand on top of his own on the lab bench, interlacing their fingers. 

“It’s how I know we’ll be okay. The fact that we are still together,” Jemma smiles, looking at him adoringly. Fitz leans his forehead against hers. 

“Me too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one was a bit harder as it overlaps with canon events. It’s half the length of the two previous, but that’s okay. Next will be longer :)
> 
> catch me on tumblr: angry-slytherin


	4. Living Life(With You, It’s Easier)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FitzSimmons get married(again); they have a baby too.

“No, Fitz, I-“

“Jemma it’s just flowers.”

“But-“

“It’s for our mums,” Fitz’s eyes gleam, and Jemma scowls. “Oh don’t give me that look. I should be giving you that look. I’m the man here, I should be scowling at flowers.”

“You don’t seriously believe that, Leopold Fitz,” Jemma glowers, and Fitz steps back from their embrace, slightly unnerved. 

“Of course not, Jemma, but I knew it would distract you. With anger, but distract you nontheless. Jem, I know you don’t want a big thing. Neither do I. But we’re already married. We have each other forever.

We didn’t bother sending a call to our poor parents for more than two years. They don’t know that we’ve married long ago, and,“ he puts up a finger to stop her from interrupting, “and we are doing this for them. Like a sorry for being such terrible children gift. Remember?”

Jemma sighs, “I know. I just don’t want to be stressed for no reason. Can it be for us too?”

“Jemma,” Fitz laughs, “I meant the flowers, not the wedding.” Jemma grins, pressing her lips to his. 

“Okay.”

***

“Stop messing with it. God, this is so weird. I’ve already done your hair for your first wedding,” Daisy smiles, catching eyes with Jemma in the mirror. 

“I don’t know how you wrangled my mum into letting you do my hair. She’s been planning my wedding since I was a girl.”

“Oh I just talked to Fitz’s mom, and she loves me. So she talked to your mom, and bam. Daisy’s your hairdresser. Get it? Bob’s your uncle?”

“Yes, I get the reference to the awful expression.”

“Shush. Stop moving,” Daisy grins though, carefully pinning her best friend’s hair. 

About a half hour later, Jemma is ready, and she is freaking out. Well, her mum is freaking out, and Daisy is trying to calm her(and failing), which is stressing Jemma out.

“You look lovely dear. I must escape to Leo. Walk him down the aisle and things like that,” Mrs. Fitz winks at her (not so) future daughter-in-law and then gives her a cheek kiss. She slips out of the bride’s room, and Jemma sighs. 

“Mum!” Jemma exclaims, “Please stop worrying. I will be fine. The whole wedding will be fine.” Her mum turns from Daisy, toward her daughter. 

“I just want the best for you. I love you, bug.”

Jemma blinks back tears, “I know. I love you too. Now can we go? I don’t appreciate tardiness from others, and it would be hypocritical of me to be so on my wedding day.” She winks at Daisy, who grins, grabbing her hand. 

“Let’s go, then.” Mrs. Simmons smiles. 

***

Fitz wonders if this is how his other self felt. Seeing Jemma walk down the aisle toward him, he’s never seen anything more beautiful. His heart soars. 

He asked her not to share too much, knowing it would hurt both of them, but Fitz knows that he walked down the aisle to her. Since this wedding was planned largely by their parents, there was no budging on Jemma being the one who does the walking this time around. 

Jemma grins as her dad lets go of her hand, Fitz is sure he’s the only one who catches her uncomfortable expression, before she smiles at Fitz again. He has to admit, this really isn’t their style. Sure, the two of them have flair, but their idea of romance is more subtle; their intelligence and exuberance speak volumes. 

The officiator goes on and on, and Fitz finds himself just nodding along, admiring Jemma. He has a feeling she’s doing the same. 

“Do you, Leopold James Fitz, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? In sickness and health, in good times and bad?”

Fitz feels tears form in his eyes, “I do.”

“And do you, Jemma Anne Simmons, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? In sickness and health, in good times and bad?” 

Jemma smiles brightly at her husband, “I do.” 

“I now pronounce you-“ the couple shares a secretive look, “-married. You may kiss the bride.” 

Jemma places a hand on Fitz’s cheek, and they share a chaste kiss. 

“Love you,” she whispers.

“Love you,” Fitz pecks her lips again. “No more secret marriage,” he says into her ear.

“No more secret marriage,” Jemma laughs. 

***

“Maisie, put that down! Ja- James stop it! You put your hands on your sister again, and no books, or toys, or electronics for a week!” Jemma says, exasperated. Both children immediately drop their arms to their sides, a toy car falling out of Maisie’s hand. Jemma puts on her best ‘mum-is-tired-you-best-not-be-getting-on-her-nerves’ face. 

“Now,” she begins, “Maisie- don’t give me that face- next time you want to borrow James’ toy, you will ask him nicely. You will say please and thank you. 

And James, we do not grab things out of someone else’s hands. If someone else steals your toys, you can take them back. If your sister takes them, you tell me or daddy. You don’t use your hands on your sister. Am I clear?” Both children nod.

“Wonderful. Now apologize to each other.” The children follow in suit. “Okay, now please let mummy relax. She’s had a very long day at work. And where is your father?”

“Daddy’s in the garage. Deke called him,” James looks up at Jemma with wet eyes. Jemma kisses both their heads, before moving to the garage.

“Fitz?” She calls out. 

“‘M here. Just working on-“ Fitz looks up from a pet project, taking in his wife.

“That suit looks fantastic on you.”

“Why weren’t you watching the children?” 

“I was. I left them alone for two minutes. Deke called and then I got caught up checking on-“

“Fitz! You shouldn’t have left them alone. Also, you left me to clean up their argument. Now I’m the bad guy, and at work, I’m the bad guy who denies funding where there’s not room.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. has a lot of money.”

“Well the cadets don’t need to know that. The American ones never take it well. I don’t remember our Academy in the states having endless funds. Also the cadets from Africa complain I have the A.C. on all day, but it’s a bloody sauna, my classroom.”

“That wasn’t your point,” Fitz looks down.

“No. My point was that you did something you really shouldn’t have. And you made my difficult day even more frustrating. So thank you, Leo, for that,” she huffs. 

“Can you watch James and Maisie while I shower? I need ten minutes to myself,” Jemma sighs. Fitz nods.

“Deke says he’ll be here next week.”

“Oh! How was his trip to- was it the-?”

“Yeah. He and my mum had a lovely time. He said she was scouting out the men. Would you believe that? My mum?”

“An odd pair for sure. But I think your mum’s just glad you have so much flesh and blood. She likes that it’s more than her,” Jemma smiles, kicking off her heels. Fitz watches the children from the kitchen. 

“I like it too. We have a lot to be thankful for. Not only two beautiful children, but one slightly annoying grandson. And I have you. I’m pretty lucky.”

“The luckiest man on any planet, I’d say.”

“Oh shush. And go shower,” Fitz teases. Jemma kisses him quickly, glances at the kids, and does just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally finished!! I’m particularly proud of this piece. thanks for reading! <3 
> 
> leave a comment if you’re so inclined.
> 
> as always, find me on tumblr  
> @angry-slytherin


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